


Lover of Sappho

by Anonymous



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, I Don't Even Know, Implied Sexual Content, Infidelity, Molly thinks Mary-Beth is gonna steal her man, Short & Sweet, turns out Mary-Beth only wants to steal her, very short very quickly written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22524709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Molly O'Shea has had a bad evening. Mary-Beth is there to improve it.in which Molly just wanted a bath and Mary-Beth wants something more.
Relationships: Mary-Beth Gaskill/Molly O'Shea
Kudos: 28
Collections: anonymous





	Lover of Sappho

She’s just about to undress when she sees clothes neatly folded on the rock next to the shore, hears a splashing of water as Mary-Beth swims into view, swims up so that they are only a few feet away from each other, the water just reaching her exposed collarbones. 

“You here for a bath, Miss  O’shea ?” the girl asks, and Molly can’t do anything but to scowl at her. Like her evening wasn’t ruined enough already. She’d wanted to be alone, away from Dutch, away from Arthur’s worried glances every time he was her after a fight, away from all the gossip surrounding her declining mental state.

Most of all, she wanted to avoid the new object of Dutch’s affections. How much bad luck could she have before God would decide that she have had enough? 

“Evening,” she answers curtly. She turns to walk away but of course the girl has to stop her.

“We never really talked much, you and I,” she says. 

Molly snorts. “Not much to talk about, is there?” 

“I think there is, Miss O’Shea,” the sweet girl replies. “I think we share some interests.”

No doubt that they did. Dutch had a type after all, foolish girls, the romantic types who would cross oceans for him and his silver tongue. 

“Whatever you say.” 

Mary-Beth seems unbothered by her cold demeanor, it only seemed to spur her on, in fact. The girl seemed to be in a talkative mood, and the only one close was Molly. 

“Do you like poetry, Miss?”   
“Read some.” Wrote some as well, not that Gaskill needed to know that, it would just be made a mockery off in camp. Hell, they all loved Arthur and they still made fun of him for his journal, like it was something bad to be something other than a brute. 

“What do you read?” 

“Heinrich Heine, Walter Scott, Byron and the likes.” 

All from her mother’s library back home, books and pamphlets that she didn’t manage to bring overseas, her bags filled with stolen heirlooms and fine clothes that she could sell. Almost everything was gone now, lost to Blackwater like all of their wealth.

“Have you ever heard of Sappho, Miss O’Shea?”

“ Of course I’ve bloody heard of Sappho,” Molly snaps. What kind of question was that, as if she didn’t know of the classics? 

“I  meant have you _ read  _ Sappho ?” 

“ Yes ,  I’ve re-”  Molly’s heart almost stops,  she’s hit  with a sudden  cold that has  nothing to do  with the lake  she’s submerged in or the  evening chill . 

Oh. 

_ Oh.  _

It has to be a trick, a  prank played by the  girls in camp  who always seemed to  despise her , and  she almost has the  time to get  angry ,  prepared to  fuckin ’  drown the bitch  who has the  audacity to  bring this up but -

- But Mary-Beth is  flushed almost scarlet ,  she looks at Molly  with shyness , a  tenderness in  her eyes that she never  seen before , not  even from Dutch. 

“You’re joking,” she chokes out.  Surely she must be joking? “You like Arthur.” It was not a  secret; everyone saw the crush the poor girl had on that man.

“It  wouldn’t have worked out ,”  she says . “I  ain’t Arthur’s type , Miss,  he prefers the strong and  silent ones .”

Jesus fuckin’ Christ, this seemed to be a night full of surprises for her. She never took him for a queer, but then again, she didn’t take Mary-Beth for one either. How the hell did the girl know about it?   
Dutch must have told her. She only ever told him, and only because the bastard was jealous that the working woman the once both shared seemed to enjoy her administrations much more than his.    
Not that she had been with many women before that. A few friends, back in Dublin. A servant girl who seemed soft on her. 

“Did Dutch tell you?” she asks. “Did he put you up to this? What do you think you’re playing at?”   
“I’ve always felt a pull towards you, Miss,” Mary-Beth says, it sounds like a confession but it can’t be, “I perhaps saw myself in you, in a way.”   
  
“You wanna see yourself in me?” Molly snarks. “You that kind of girl, Miss?” 

Mary-Beth's cheeks get even redder. “If you’d let me.” 

She still couldn’t believe her. Almost waited for Karen and Tilly to come bursting out of a bush, yelling “Surprise!”, mocking her for even having the guts to think that she was wanted in the gang, that she was seen as anything other than a leech on Dutch. 

But no one comes, and the gravity of the situation slowly creeps up on her, that this is real and she has a choice to make.   
It should be easy, she thinks of herself loyal to Dutch after all, but the past weeks had shown that Dutch had grown tired of her.    
And if he was allowed to look at other girls, wasn’t she allowed to do just the same?

Especially when the  girl he now seemed to  fancy fancied _ her _ . 

Mary-Beth rises from the water, walks up to the shore like Venus reborn. Drops of water glistens on her skin, the  lengths of her soft hair slicked to her body, it almost covers her full, plump breasts, reaches down to her navel, underneath which the hair is dark and curly. 

She stands there, cheeks red, vulnerable and still unashamed. 

“Think about it, Miss O’Shea,” the girl says, her voice all sweet, takes her clothes in her arms and goes into the forest, naked as a nymph. 

Molly wonders if other parts of her were sweet as well, and follows her into the woods. 

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for this, its something i wrote quick at work after listening to much to björk who always seem to awaken lesbianism in me


End file.
